


Horizon

by blistry



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, DameRey, F/M, Fluffy, JediPilot, Nightmares, POV Poe Dameron, TLJ Spoilers, ish, not if i have something to say about it, now i guess, poe will never stop teasing rey, some boring improvised ATC chatter, the lore is not strong with this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-03-08 03:52:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13449957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blistry/pseuds/blistry
Summary: “Kestrel One, this is Evit Ground Control, please advise- no that’s not right.” Poe’s brow furrowed at the egregious fumble first. Then the voice, the accent.“Sorry, sorry. Manual’s kind of...thick. Please hold, Kestrel One.”“Please hold? Wait, who let you out of sick bay?” He asked, teasing. She couldn’t see his face but he reflexively smiled as roguishly as was possible. There was a long pause.“I let myself out of sick bay, thank you very much,” came Rey’s tempestuous reply.“Course you did, sunshine.” And he meant that with every admiration.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lo, traveler, a dialogue study. what better way to do it than to make your two characters literally never interact in person?
> 
> played a lot of rogue squadron but only googled the absolute minimum that i needed to to make the ATC chatter sound good lol youre welcome
> 
> new tumbly here: https://blistrysmysteries.tumblr.com/

“C’mon, buddy. We’re up!” Poe crowed over his shoulder. BB-8 followed behind him, orb skidding across the metal surface of the hangar bay for how fast he was rolling behind his friend.

Poe pulled himself up the ladder and soon found himself right at home in the cockpit of his X-Wing. BB-8 chirped happily as he was seated solidly in his little copilot’s seat.

“No, no,” the cocksure captain replied, laughing. “Nothin’ special. Just some basic flight maneuvers for the greenhorns. Be back in time for dinner.”

He flipped several switches to start his ship warming up. She hummed to life beneath his feet. Poe grinned and pat her dashboard, giving her just enough throttle to make her roar.

“Atta girl,” he murmured, with sincere pride.

Black One was gone and it still pained him, but he had a new X-Wing now. She didn’t always like to get running on a cold morning and the targeting computer flickered at incredibly inconvenient times but she was faster than the devil and Poe needed nothing more.

She was called Kestrel One.

“Hey, pal, what’s the jam-up lookin’ like?”

BB-8 just made a few concerned beeps and boops.

“Heh, no shit,” he sighed, watching squadrons crowding and queuing to leave the hangar.

The new official rebel base of operations - obscured beneath the massive fungal canopy that covered much of planet Evit - didn’t have quite as much space as was convenient, but it was hidden from the piercing gaze of the First Order and that was enough. Still, it made routine training exercises a nightmare. Getting everyone out of the hangar with little incident proved difficult on busy days.

“Ground Control, Kestrel One, hangar bay seven, ready for departure.” He said it offhandedly into his flight headset.

Poe Dameron had been a very busy training instructor lately. The rebel forces were, once again, fledgling and struggling to survive. Still, there was hope that the rebellion might thrive. A crowded hangar and overworked staff were just the growing pains of a new generation of freedom fighters. Luckily, the crack team working the tower were becoming better and better at expediting departures and arrivals. It wasn’t easy to direct air traffic, either. It required efficiency, the memorization of several tomes worth of arcane flight info, and, most importantly, a tight grasp of the vocabulary.

“Kestrel One," came the expected reply, "this is Evit Ground Control, please advise- no that’s not right.” Poe’s brow furrowed at the egregious fumble first. Then the voice, the accent.

“Sorry, sorry. Manual’s kind of...thick. Please hold, Kestrel One.”

“Please hold? Wait, who let you out of sick bay?” He asked, teasing. She couldn’t see his face but he reflexively smiled as roguishly as was possible. There was a long pause.

“I let myself out of sick bay, thank you very much,” came Rey’s tempestuous reply.

“Course you did, sunshine.” And he meant that with every admiration.

When they first met, she introduced herself as if she was no one, but from the moment he looked in her eyes, he was at a loss. Rey still made him feel that way from time to time, if he were honest.

“Ah!” She exclaimed, shaking Poe loose from his musings. “Here it is! Kestrel One, this is Evit Ground Control. Please stand by for departure clearance, Kestrel One.”

“Kestrel One, standing by for clearance,” Poe copied. Then, he waited for Rey’s signal to cut out but it didn’t.

“Kestrel Two, this is Evit Ground Control.”

“Nope, still me.”

“Oh. How embarrassing. Let me hand it off. This is a _weird_ headset.” There was a pause.

Poe Dameron also had a very persistent crush on Rey. Moments like these absolutely exacerbated the problem.

“So I take it you must be feeling better,” he said, breaking all protocol when it came to radio professionalism.

“You’re the only one who believes that so far. Don’t know why everyone’s making such a big fuss. It’s not as if something serious happened.”

“You wouldn’t call a broken leg serious?” She sighed at that.

“I can’t fly.” Clearly, she was disappointed. Her eyes were most likely downcast. Perhaps she even gently chewed on her bottom lip. It was just like her to try and be as close to the action as she could be.

“Well, you can live vicariously through me, if you like.”

“It’s better than staring at the sick bay ceiling.” He imagined she must be smiling. “Kestrel One, Evit Ground Control, bay seven, your squadron is cleared for lift-off.” 

“Roger that, Ground Control.” Unlike Rey, Poe was able to successfully switch signals in order to update his pilots with their orders. Twelve X-Wings that made up Poe’s squadron lifted off the ground.

“Kestrel One,” Rey began, as the very same ship hovered carefully above the bustling hangar, “please retract your landing gear and proceed, holding short of bay three.”

“Roger; Wilco.”

“Who’s Wilco? This is Rey.”

“Nevermind. Holding short of bay three,” he said, unable to find her misunderstanding anything but completely endearing. She may be a totally natural pilot, but that didn’t mean he expected her to know _everything_ there was to know about flying. Patiently, Poe held short of bay three just as he was directed, until he and his eleven were next to go. After a time, Rey's voice returned.

“Kestrel One, Evit Ground Control, you are clear for departure.”

“Roger that. Not bad for the first day on the job, sunshine.” She laughed carelessly, and the sound filled him up with something wonderful and sustaining.

“Whatever you say, Commander Dameron,” Rey replied. Still smilingly, he hoped.

One by one, and dutifully behind their commander, the Kestrel squadron departed from the hangar. Light only filtered through where it could in the small gaps of the canopy. Mist immediately accumulated onto the entire X-Wing exterior.

Evit’s hot, rainy season lasted almost three quarters of a standard rotation. Though, rain implies water falling to earth. On Evit it mostly hung in the air - heavy and thick, even in the heat of the day - making every breath feel laborious and exhausting.

“Me again. Almost forgot something.” Rey came crashing into his headset once more, sounding harried. “Let’s see, weather advisories…”

“Looks clear out here,” Poe casually remarked, pulling up to exit out of a sizeable gap in the canopy. His squadron followed.

“Hush. Reading.”

So he complied, of course, snorting and shaking his head.

“Ah, okay, so there are no advisories,” she said with only the slightest trace of sheepishness.

“Varnok’ll usually let you know about conditions, so don’t sweat it next time.”

“You know, I don’t think she likes me very much,” Rey said. It was markedly quiet. Poe pictured her cupping the headset microphone like she was telling him a secret.

“Impossible. Varnok’s good people.”

“Specifically, I don’t think she likes me up _here_.”

“Now, that makes sense.” Varnok took her job deadly serious. She was always saying a properly functioning hangar was like a nervous system. The metaphor usually became increasingly fanatical in nature after that, of course. She took her duties very seriously, after all.

“Just tighten up your chatter. You’ll have the hang of it in no time. Oh, and bring her something sweet back from lunch.”

“What, like a cupcake?” Rey snorted.

“Anything, as long as it’s easy to eat. She almost always skips meals and when her blood sugar drops, well, let’s just say she has a hard time being her usual rosy self.”

“I see,” she said, slowly picking up what Poe was putting down.

“You’ll win points with Varnok and everyone else in the hangar.”

“I could use some points, to be sure.” She must be smiling now. It was hard to tell with her. Rey could be impossibly sober and serious for someone so young. “Thanks, Poe. Safe flight.”

“You too! I- I mean thanks,” he bared his teeth and pressed a closed fist against his forehead.

BB-8 whistled and tittered behind him.

“Yeah, I know it was awkward, I was there. Thanks, buddy.”

Poe alternated his signal, wanting to leave that moment firmly in the past. “Alright, kids, let’s work on some flight formations.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wilco = will comply  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i fantasize about a star wars where sometimes they don't have to be saving the world and bringing balance to the force.
> 
> sometimes they can just talk to one another.
> 
> what do you think they'd say if they weren't always so busy?

“Kestrel One, Ground Control, you’re cleared for landing, watch for departure traffic.”

“Look at that,” he replied. “No mistakes! You’re a regular, old pro now.”

“You have no idea. The midday rush was a real baptism by fire, let me tell you. I’ve even managed to figure out the headset.”

“Knew you had it in you,” he said, nearing the hangar. The heavy, darkened canopy called for a tricky, low approach. Landings and takeoffs in general are, technically, quite difficult. For Poe, it was second nature.

“So,” Rey said, suddenly. Her eyes must be sparkling with something. Enthusiasm. He could tell just by the lone syllable. “How were maneuvers? Rest of your team seemed pretty happy.”

“That’s because I let them go home early.”

Rey only sighed and silence followed as Poe lined up with the column of warm light which spilled out of the lone aircraft entrance. He gently applied the brakes, levelling the nose of his craft as he entered the hangar.

“I don’t know,” said Rey, “I saw them at dinner and they seemed really- oh, Bay 27, sorry.”

“Oof. Bum kriffin’ Tatooine.” BB-8 concurred with a low alarm.

“Your squadron took all the good parking spots in the front. Anyway, at dinner-”

“You’ve been staying off that leg right?” She tsked and probably rolled her eyes.

“You sound like Finn.”

“Well, Finn is an intelligent man and a personal friend.”

“Stop trying to change the subject!” She playfully chided.

Rey had him dead to rights. The rebels had just barely managed to survive, like a small bloom under Evit’s sprawling, dense canopy. They were just barely scraping by with what little sunlight they had. The state of existence felt so delicate that Poe was concerned if Rey gave him even a word of praise the entire thing would wither.

“As I was _saying_ , I saw them at dinner and I think they’re really bonding.” Rey quieted a little, then. “They sat together. Chatting, _laughing_. Like friends. That means they’re a team now, right?” She murmured longingly, as if in a daydream. Poe felt a pang of sadness for her. He knew how badly she had wanted to fly for the rebellion.

“It means they’re the _loud_ table in the mess hall.”

He neared his assigned bay, slowly lowering Kestrel One as he deployed his landing gear.

“They’ve come a long way. You should be proud,” she said resolutely, like it was an order. It rather perturbed Poe how much it meant that she had said that. He couldn’t fight the warmth in his cheeks.

“I am,” he replied, smiling down at this hands. “Very.”

“Good. Now go get something to eat.”

“Roger that, Ground Control.” Poe said it emphatically. He was starved and, stars willing, if he was able to survive the long walk from Bay 27, he would eat his weight in honey rolls.

\--

“ _Refueling_?”

His heart leapt with excitement at the sound of her voice, a reaction which he immediately admonished, just like he had admonished the feeling of disappointment he had experienced that morning when he had noticed her absence.

“You must have really stepped on some toes to earn this shift.”

He waited a few beats before answering her, trying to play it cool.

“Afternoon, sunshine.”

“Commander.”

“And I don’t know what you mean,” Poe said, playing dumb as he addressed her greeting. “What’s wrong with refueling?”

“Varnok called it a ‘shit detail’,” said Rey matter-of-factly. She always tilted her chin upward when she had a point, so she must have done so.

“Well,” said Poe, totally unable to hide his amusement at Rey swearing, “that was not very polite of her. Besides,” he said, sitting up a little straighter in the uncomfortable, unfamiliar driver’s seat of the fuel freighter, “I find it...relaxing.”

“What did you do?”

Poe gave in, sighing and dropping his head onto the steering panel.

“I accidentally spilled caf on one of Varnok’s consoles.”

He could hear Rey sucking in a breath through her teeth.

“She also used the phrase ‘shit detail’, as it happens,” he admitted. She started laughing, almost snorting for how hard she was trying not to. Really, as bad as it was being chewed out by Varnok, hearing Rey laugh with him about it almost made it worth it.

“Is that why the dials on mine are sticky?” She said in between gasps.

“Ha. Ha.”

“Wow, and you’re not even halfway to Dendri,” she marveled. “I can see you on the monitors.”

“I know,” Poe said, drawing the ‘ooo’ out while he scrubbed his hands up and down his face. “It’s not all bad. At least this beast is roomy.” He stretched out his legs to prove the point.

The rebels had managed to amass a small collection of capital ships which they kept hidden on Evit’s fifth moon, Dendri. They came and went as they were needed and since the moon was the farthest, and almost always in Evit’s shadow, it made for an excellent place to hide the bulk of one’s fleet.

The trade-off was that it was quite far from the rebel base, and fuel freighters weren’t exactly known for hauling ass.

“Why do you call me that?” Said Rey, changing the subject rather abruptly after a few minutes of dead air. She was using that almost-laughing voice she used when she thought he was being ridiculous.

“Sorry?” He replied, but he understood her question better than he was letting on.

“ _Sunshine_. You called me sunshine.”

“I don’t know. It fits,” he replied with a shrug, using the most infuriatingly glib tone he could muster.

“It _fits_?” She asked, sounding riled (the exact response Poe was hoping to provoke). “What does that mean, _it fits_?”

“It’s just a nickname,” he replied, still not answering her question. “I give everyone nicknames.”

Patently untrue.

“What do you call Nien Nunb?” She quizzed.

“Coolbreeze,” Poe improvised. “He loves it.”

“Uh huh, and what do you call Verna, in engineering?”

“The, uh, Verninator.”

“That’s-” Rey growled in mild frustration. “Okay, what do you call Varnok?”

“Ma’am.”

She snorted but righted herself quickly. “Well, you haven’t given Finn a nickname, and he’s your best friend, Mr. I-Give-Everyone-Nicknames.”

“Have so.”

“Oh really?” She said, doubtful. “What?”

“Finn.”

There passed a solid ten seconds of radio silence.

“That doesn’t count.”

“Agree to disagree, sunshine.”

“You are ridiculous,” she sighed, but the words were fond.

Poe closed his eyes and tried to imagine how many times he made her smile during the short exchange. What a shape, her smile. She had devastated him with it from the moment they first met, looking up at him with the fullest expression of her happiness to see him, a complete stranger except in name.

Sun-kissed, freckled cheeks, crinkling hazel eyes, totally unrepentant ardor. Rey was so dazzling to him and she hardly knew it.

“I _am_ ridiculous,” Poe murmured to himself, flicking lint off of his shirt and wondering just what the hell he was supposed to do now.

\--

“Hey, you there?”

Poe stirred, and scratched his nose.

“Hello? Poe, do you read me?”

With an impressive snort and a start, Poe awoke, scrambling to press buttons in an attempt to figure out his comms.

“I’m here, hello, yes” he said, voice gravelly from sleep, “Ground Control, Pelican C447, I read you.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said, feeling quiet and far away.

“Rey?” Still half-sleeping, he rubbed his eyes and spoke, yawning: “You didn’t wake me.”  
Rey hummed her doubt softly.

“Just wanted to check in since I’m leaving the hangar for the night. Only a few more hours until you're home.”

"Mmmhome. Home is good," he slurred. “Night, Rey."

“Night, Poe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just because i dont know how common the phrase is,
> 
> 'bum f*ckin' egypt' or simply 'bfe' is used to describe something crazy far or out of the way for whoever is exclaiming it. i star wars'd it tho because poe doesn't know what egypt is. thus 'bum kriffin' tatooine' lol


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -makes up a bunch of bullshit lol-

“How is it that every time I go to mess, they’re completely out of those really good, sweet, bread things? Do you know what I’m talking about?”

“Honey rolls,” Poe replied, sagely, “the most coveted of mealtime items.”

“ _Honey rolls,_ ” Rey repeated, mostly, Poe assumed, for her own benefit. “So what’s the trick to getting one before they’re all gone? You know a guy right?”

“What, you just assume I have some insider tip for everything now?”

“Well,” she hesitated. “Yes?”

“Can’t blame you there,” he sighed, “because, as it happens, I might know a thing or two about scoring honey rolls.”

“I knew it.” Poe could hear the faint chiming of her computer in the background as she spoke. “Oh! Hold on. Let’s see, here. Target is about three klicks out. Adjust by seven degrees south of your current trajectory and you should land right on top of it.”

“Copy that,” the pilot replied, pushing down on a pedal. The frame of the rusted, low-altitude maintenance vessel groaned at the change in direction, hull flexing under the stress. Poe could hear the engineers he was hauling in the back hooting and laughing at the dodgy, old ship.

“Do you have eyes on it?” Rey asked, always very serious about her duties.

“I think so,” Poe said, looking out, surveying the sky above the mossy, reddish canopy. Then, he rapped on the wall behind him, the other side of which sat a cramped cabin full of rowdy maintenance workers. Among them was his good friend Rose.

“That our guy?” Poe asked when she appeared on the modest bridge.

Rose walked up to better look out of the viewport, her heavy-duty work boots thudding against the floor grates. She leaned on his co-pilot’s seat and narrowed her eyes until they settled upon a lone counter-reconnaissance drone, hovering statically above the planet’s surface.

“Looks like it. In bad shape too. Boys!” The able mechanic called over her shoulder. More boots thudded in the cabin. Then, she patted Poe on the shoulder. “Drop us down a bit, yeah? Wanna be able to reach it from the platform.”

“You got it,” Poe smoothly obliged, using topside thrusters to position the craft. Two other workers filed out to climb the ladder behind him.

“Anyway, the secret to the honey rolls,” Poe began when Rose had disappeared to order around her crewman. He had to keep his voice lowered, as the team organized their equipment behind him.

“Ah, yes, _the secret_ ,” Rey said conspiratorially.

“And this isn’t a perfect method...”

“Go on.”

“...but I find it usually helps to be up before noon.”

There was a pause.

“Laserbrain.”

Poe snorted loudly and unexpectedly, his shoulders jumping.

“What are you smilin’ at, commander?”

He jumped once more, this time more violently, emitting a funny, startled yelp. Rose was right beside him, clearly very amused at having given the seasoned pilot a scare. She also appeared to be expecting an answer.

“What was that?” He could hear Rey crackling through his headset.

“Nothing,” he answered to both of them.

“Is that Rose?”

“Is that Rey?” Rose pointed to his headset. Poe covered the microphone with his hand and canted his head toward the ladder.

“Isn’t there a thing that needs to be fixed? Go fix the thing.”

Rose raised her hands in surrender, a very smug and knowing smile plastered across her face as she went back to her task.

“Pop the hatch!” She called up to the worker at the top of the ladder. With a _clank_ the smell of damp flora flooded the ship. Rose hefted a heavy satchel full of tools onto her shoulder and then started up the ladder behind her crew.

“Tell Rey I said ‘hello’,” she called behind her as she climbed her way up. When the hatch sealed again, Poe took a deep breath.

“Rose says ‘hello’,” he repeated ruefully, wiping away the layer of moisture that had accumulated on his brow from the open hatch.

“I knew it was her,” said Rey, sounding very satisfied.

“So," Poe began a little awkwardly, "you like sweet things.” He was idle and eager to pay attention to her.

“Sorry?”

“Sweet food,” he carefully specified. “Like honey rolls.”

“Sweet is the best taste, from what I can tell, so far.” Rey said eagerly, “but it might be too soon to tell. The concept is still pretty to new to me. I’ve experienced a lot of _flavors_ since leaving Jakku.”

“Not too many of those back home?”

Rey chuckled. “Suffice it to say, we were a little starved for choice.”

Poe winced. It was easy to forget how hard-fought and lonely Rey’s life had been up until this point. Her resilience was one of her most admirable qualities but one doesn’t learn resilience without experiencing a great deal of pain.

“You used that word, _home_ ,” Rey said, “about Jakku.”

“I did,” he confirmed, monitoring the sound of the crew working above him.

“I always called it that for lack of a better term.”

Poe listened, always careful to let her finish her thoughts.

“I lived there almost my entire life but Evit feels more like home to me than anywhere else.”

That made him feel warm and lightweight. A smile crept across his face. For some reason, the idea that Rey was able to call Evit home made him ecstatic. Perhaps it was because he wanted to believe that he was apart of that idea, that feeling of _home_ for Rey.

“Sorry,” she laughed, embarrassed, “I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no. Don’t apologize, really,” he soothed. “You’re not alone. For a lot of us, the rebellion is the only family we have.”

Poe could sense a question coming on. Rey was full of curious queries. He waited for her to ask.

“What about you?” She said, at last.

Poe took the time to really consider her question, chewing his lip and knitting his brow. When he finally spoke, it was the effortless truth.

“I don’t think I could belong anywhere else like I belong here.”

“I think I'm exactly the same way.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Well, it _feels_ spectacular.”

“Then let me be the first to say welcome home.”

Now, more than ever, he wished she was just there with him.

“Thank you,” she said sweetly, “it’s nice to have finally arrived.”

\--

“Ground Control, Kestrel One, Poe? It’s Rey-”

“Rey, hi,” he said, harried, his headset haphazardly thrown on so he could hear her while he pulled his jacket on. “Sorry, I’m kind of in a rush we’re-”

“Deployed, I know. But it wasn’t on the schedule.”

“We got some last minute intel about a First Order supply line a few systems over. Our squadron is on standby while we decide whether or not to knock it over.”

“So that means…”

“That’s right. We left early this morning; only arrived an hour ago. Dendri, sweet Dendri.”

BB-8 started a litany of alarms and calls.

“I know, I know, I’m hurrying,” Poe replied, gathering up his duffel bag. 

“What does he mean? Going to be late for what?” Rey asked.

“Briefing. And he’s wrong, anyway, because, _technically_ , we are already late.”

The little droid whirred indignantly.

“I just wanted to make sure I didn’t miss you.” He was almost starting to run out of breath, power-walking down the corridors of the moon base.

“What does that mean?”

“It _means_ I left you something. You’re at your console right?”

“Yes,” she replied, skeptically.

“The access panel on the left side is a little loose. Just give it a wiggle. Parcel inside has your name on it.”

“Wait, what?”

“I gotta go. Don’t let Varnok see.”

“Be safe, you two.” Rey understood time being of the essence. She saved her questions, though Poe could tell she was hesitant. He stopped in the middle of the corridor and looked down at his diminutive, spherical friend.

“We will,” he promised, before removing the headset and stowing it away in his duffel bag.

The parcel was simple, but not an afterthought. He had carefully wrapped two honey rolls and a handful of blue satsumas into a small care package for her, in the hopes that it would make her afternoon a little better.

He could only guess at her reaction to finding the treats. He expected not to hear from Rey for some time. He would have no official need of Evit Ground Control’s assistance for the foreseeable future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all hail the boring, everyday rebellion chores i love writing about


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i took a break to play a lot of video games

The most generous word Poe could use to describe the base on Dendri was _utilitarian_ , which probably would have made the original designer of the facility very proud. The rebels had only found it as the old bones of an abandoned mining colony. Cramped, labyrinthine tunnels lined with rows and rows of pipes like blood vessels ran several stories below the dusty, uninhabitable surface of the moon. Steam whirled and danced around his ankles down every passage until he would reach the hangar.

If the dilapidated mining operation was a long-abandoned skeleton, the hangar was the ribcage. Tall, sturdy pillars upheld the ceiling where massive bay doors could close and open to accommodate behemoth mining rigs (or rebel capital ships, as the case may be).

Seemingly endless sluggish doors dragged themselves open before him until he reached his destination. Upon peeking out into the hangar, the star pilot found it was empty. Ideal conditions for a restless commander trying to steal a little night cruise.

BB-8 appeared behind his legs, looking up at his loyal friend. He chirped as quietly as he could.

“Yeah, coast looks clear,” Poe replied biting his lip as he strode across the room to his X-Wing.

The little droid buzzed in reply. Uncertain.

“ _No_ , we're not doing anything wrong,” he said, as if the idea were ridiculous. His quickening steps echoed. “I just don’t want to answer any questions. You know, ‘is this a scheduled deployment, _Commander Poe_?’, ‘are you observing fuel conservation regulations, _Commander Poe_?’.”  

The Dendri crew held the reigns a little tighter than they did in Evit. Then again, it had helped having so many friends in the hangar. Out of habit, his eyes went to the control room. Rey did not wait behind the darkened glass there.

After striding nonchalantly to his bird, he checked that she was refueled. The meter was good but she needed a hose-down, to be sure. Then, up the small wheel-in ladder he went, bouncing into his cockpit with ease and familiarity.

Looking shifty, Poe watched over his left and right shoulders, flipping switches and powering up the engines by sheer muscle memory alone. BB-8 ascended to his copilots spot, clicking into place. He let out a prolonged _bwoo-woop_ of contentment, as if he were settling into bed.

“See?” Poe said, flicking the pitch indicator impatiently. “We needed this.”

BB trilled his reservations in reply.

“Yeah, well, better to beg forgiveness, right buddy?” An apt phrase. There was going to be a very peeved quartermaster to deal with if he was caught.

With that, Kestrel One’s engines screamed to life and Poe made a swift, skillful exit before anyone could come back from dinner to notice.

The sheer frustration of being trapped on Dendri had been stacking up like so many plates Poe wanted to shatter. Deliberations were ongoing over whether or not the rebellion was ready to strike the First Order supply line. It wouldn’t be a particularly large-scale mission but it would be their first outright attack on the First Order since Rey had recovered them all on Crait. He was stuck until a decision could be made. Unfortunately, he was also the person in charge of making that decision but he refused to do so until everyone had their say.

Poe punched the throttle as far as it would go and let the setbacks of the past few days fall away with every aerobatic maneuver he performed. BB-8 hooted and cheered even though the barrel rolls made him dizzy. Sometimes, a pilot just needs to go _fast_.

And when he was done going fast, he let himself down, just close enough to Dendri’s surface to upset the crystalline moondust that settled there. Then he just went, slowly and leisurely through a canyon which sparkled with mineral deposits and veins. There was no better place to think than the quiet interior of a starfighter.

Suddenly, BB-8 made an inquisitive sound.

“What’s that?” He said, brow furrowing. “A signal? What signal?”

BB-8 repeated himself, this time slower.

“Patch ‘em in. I’ll find out.”

The static crackled into his headset but cleared in an instant. He mostly expected he was about to be chewed out but BB-8 was very insistent that the signal was too long range to be coming from Dendri.

“Kestrel One, here,” he said skeptically, but there was no response, “do you read?”

Poe shook his head. “Chalk it up to interference,” he said to his round little buddy.

“Poe?”

“Rey?” He couldn’t hide the sheer shock in his voice.

“What are you-” she stopped, he could hear shuffling and then a crashing sound. “Oh, _Force_ , I dropped the-”

“What time is it there?”

“Sorry. Hi. I didn’t mean to- I was just sweeping signals, I didn’t think-” She cut herself off and he thought he could hear her groaning.

“It’s gotta be,” Poe checked the time, “yeah, it’s almost morning there. Not that it isn’t nice to hear your voice, sunshine, but what are you still doing in the tower?”

“I was fixing something,” she said stubbornly. Rey could always sense when he was about to mother her over something and she almost always responded with defiance, but this time, she elected to soften.

“And, honestly, I was looking for you,” she admitted. He could feel his face flush. “I know you sometimes skip dinner to fly. It’s almost been a week and I never got to thank you for the honey rolls.”

“It was nothing,” he said, feeling giddy but playing it ever so cool.

“And those _blue round things_.”

“Satsumas. You like those?”

“They’re sour.”

“But good?”

“Very good. Even better if you peel them.”

Poe had to cut off his end of the feed for a moment so he could snicker at Rey, who was as funny unintentionally as she was sincerely.

“Well, I’m glad you liked them, but I hope you didn’t stay up until morning just to tell me so.”

“I told you I was fixing something.”

“C’mon, Rey.”

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” she said quietly. It was an oddly personal admission, or at least the way she said it made it seem personal. “It’s why I’m gone most mornings.”

“Is it your leg?” He asked, concerned.

There was no sound in his ears or his cockpit. Poe was adrift in open space.

“No. Or- yes,” Rey said, but her tone was peculiar. Strained. “When I lay down and try to sleep it’s just- it-”

“Have you gone to see Doc?”

She made a noncommittal noise.

“Well, you should. He could give you something for the pain, or at least something to help you sleep.”

“It isn’t unbearable. Just distracting.”

“ _Rey_ ,” he said, gently chiding her.

“ _Poe_ ,” she parrotted back, wholly uncaring.

“You’re gonna make me tell Finn,” he said resolutely, shaking his head.

“Hold on, let’s not do anything rash.”

“Rash is my middle name. Try and stop me”

“Oh, _stars_ , that’s awful,” she broke, relinquishing a fit of laughter. Poe laughed too.

Soon after, he found himself counting the stars. Waiting. He might have thought to head back if he were alone but he never wanted their little talks to end like it had to so frequently during their busy days. And, after awhile, like she could always be relied upon to do, Rey spoke.

“When I was eleven.” She stopped, hesitating. He could faintly hear her steady breathing. In and out. Until she was ready.

“I had an accident. When I was eleven, that is.” She had to force it out but once the words began to flow, they came easy. “Fell down a lift shaft, scavenging an old dreadnought.”

“I caught every snag I could on the way down. It’s probably why I survived but I still broke my arm. Collar bone too.” She was pensive. Far away. If he could just reach his hand out to hers.

“Another scavenger found me. Sen-Sen. And thank the Force she had a soft spot for me. Set my arm right there at the bottom of the shaft, made me a sling, put some spare parts in my satchel - enough for a meal, at least - and sent me off.”

He could hear her smiling through a small exhalation. “She was sweet. Visited me everyday while I mended.” Rey had laughter in her voice now. “She never spoke a word, isn’t that strange?”

Poe wasn’t verbally equipped to begin.

He had broken his arm too, as a child, falling out of a young Massassi tree he was recklessly, foolishly determined to conquer. Only, Rey had nothing like what he had. No father, like his, to wrap her cast and kiss her cheeks. No mother, like his, to tell her that a broken bone was worth the tears and the pain because she would have a story to tell that was all her own.

Perhaps she took his silence as discomfort because she quickly tried to smooth it over.

“Anyway, it’s-” She tsked, changing gears. “I grew up never having anything for pain, so…”

“Of course,” he said quickly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve-”

“No, no,” Rey soothed. “It’s not a bad memory. Just a memory, that’s all.” He found himself being comforted by her, which made him feel ashamed somehow.

After a moment, she yawned.

“You should turn in,” Poe said. It wasn’t an order from a Commander, but a fervent recommendation from a concerned friend.

“I know.” She sounded as if in a daze.

“Wait, Rey.” He chewed his lip and knit his brow, unable to decide if he should speak or just shut up forever.

“You- you should holo me.” Then, he cleared his throat. “You know, just to keep you abreast of the situation over here. Definitely, the, uh, briefings could be relevant to you.”

“Really?” She said, excitement kindling in her voice. “You’ll tell me about the officer meetings?”

“If you’d like.” At least he landed on his feet. “It might even help with your insomnia. The word _meeting_ alone is making me nod off.”

“Me too,” she said through another yawn. “I’m off to bed. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Night, Rey."

"Night, Poe."

Even small goodbyes can be hard but hers held so much promise. Poe could return to the cramped bunks and the stuffy quartermasters with tomorrow on his mind.

“You were listening in, weren’t you?” Poe said to his friend, after awhile.

BB-8 tweeted conspicuously.

“Liar.”

The droid didn’t reply for awhile but when he did Poe laughed.

“I know, buddy,” he agreed, resigned. “And I’m a sucker for her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want to say that the comment's y'all leave are so kind and i appreciate them very much and anyone that takes the time to look at this fic is super cool and thank you very much


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay!

Poe chewed his lip - practically to the point of savagery - and leered at his communicator, which sat before him on rumpled bedclothes. Stubble was evident on his chin and it pushed the threshold of ruggedness, veering dangerously close to pure dishevelment.

BB-8 tittered curiously from across the bunk where he sat.

“I know, I know,” he said. “Just give me a tick, I’m just- I gotta psych myself up for this so-”

The droid replied, doubtfully. Even tilting a little.

“Don’t gimme that,” Poe replied, knowing that BB was right but refusing to acknowledge it. “Alright, look I’m doing it, see?”

He pretended to be totally unphased as he called Rey, picking up the communicator and dialing her up.

“Poe?”

His mouth went completely dry. There was something about crossing this threshold. The slow normalization of just _talking_. Just them. Outside of their duty to the rebellion.

The rebel starpilot wondered when the butterflies would subside.

“Hey there,” he managed, sounding a little strained after swallowing his nerves. “Not busy are you?”

“I’m hardly _ever_ busy,” came her unexpectedly disheartened admission. He heard a faint but persistent jostling in the background. “One second.” Rey growled and the sounds intensified. “I hate this stupid piece of...”

“Well, you sound busy,” he remarked, bemused.

“I have an itch in my cast,” she snapped. The frantic sound continued. “Past the knee - haven’t been able to find anything long enough to _kill it_.”

“Yikes,” he said, both out of empathy and a little bit of fear.

“I’ve already broken two transmitter antennae and I’m starting to consider drastic measures.”

“Should I tell security to keep you out of the armory?”

“ _Like they could_ ,” she muttered, in a rare show of petulance. Not that she wasn’t right. Poe doubted if anyone could stop her from doing what she was determined to do.

“Didn’t Doc say- what was it? Week and a half longer?”

Rey just groaned, completely demoralized. He thought he might have heard her forehead thump onto her console.

“I’m starting to hate the inside of this room,” she grumbled. He imagined she must’ve meant the comms room.

“Would you cheer up if I told you I had very good news?”

“Maybe. What is it?” She asked, perking up. Then she gasped. “Is it about the mission?”

“It is.”

“You got approval?” She asked, excitement pouring out of her every syllable.

BB-8 answered for him with a keen whistle of pride. Poe chuckled and patted his spherical friend.

“Opsec gave the okay this morning. Couldn’t have done it without you,” he said, making sure to keep himself from sounding overly fond. “Seriously. The only reason Engineering is on board is because of your idea to offer them first salvage rights. That was all you Rey.”

“I am sitting, useless, in a chair, four-hundred thousand kilometers away, Poe. This is your victory.”

“Our victory,” he said, shaking his head. One of these days he would get Rey to come to terms with her greatness, even if he had to remind her of it every day, himself. “Anyway, despite what you say, I’m still not sure I have a head for this- _the politics_ , y’know?”

“You will. It will come with time, just like General Organa said,” Rey reassured him.

“Well, if it never does, I’ll be glad to have you in my corner.” Poe’s fingers played at the trinket suspended from a chain around his neck. He couldn’t remember reaching for it in the first place.

“Wait, I think I hear-” Rey said in a distracted tone before gasping: “Finn! Are those for me? Oh, that smells incredible.” 

Poe wanted to chuckle but instead a pang of longing gripped his heart. The weeks wore on at Dendri and he missed his friends. He missed moments like these.

“Finn brought me lunch!” She said, catching Poe up.

“How’s being relegated to the dust ball treating you, buddy?”  Now, that made Poe smile. Finn was definitely in the background but speaking loud enough for his voice to transmit.

“It’ll be over soon, thank the stars,” he replied. Finn whistled.

“Talk about a shit detail,” he joked, making an unwitting callback. “What? What’s so funny?”

Rey seemed to be having trouble swallowing her caf, as he could hear her chiding Finn for making her laugh while she was drinking something. 

“Have a good lunch, you two,” he said, shaking his head at his hopelessly goofy cohorts.

The three of them exchanged goodbyes and Poe daydreamed about something saccharine but simple. Something like sharing a meal with people for whom he felt a great deal of affection.

* * *

Poe rolled over, his stolen afternoon nap coming to an abrupt halt as his communicator sounded off. His dark hair had been upset to a comedic degree, curling and peaking unpredictably. He scrabbled for the source of the tinkling noise, nearly falling out of his bunk.

Brow furrowed by confusion, he snatched the communicator and set it on his pillow, all the while refusing to leave the warmth of his blankets.

“Poe Dameron,” he mumbled, voice hoarse from sleep. “Hello.”

“Poe.”

He could hear it now. The sound of her breathing came quick, like a trapped prey animal. Her voice was far away and fragile.

“Rey, what’s happening?” He shot up and began pawing beneath his bunk for his boots. “Where are you?”

“Poe, I think- I think I have to leave.”

“Leave?”

“Leave Evit. He saw me. Looked _into_ me. I have to go-”

“Slow down and talk to me. What’s happening?” He began a frenzied sprint down the corridors towards the hangar, receiving concerned looks as he went.

Rey’s breathing deepened and the extra oxygen must have afforded her some sort of new clarity because he soon heard her snarl and the sound of something delicate smashing into pieces in the background. Then, silence.

When she finally spoke, it was to curse.

“It was a dream, wasn’t it?” She marveled as she tried to iron the quiver out of her voice.

She was not talking to him, that much he could tell.

“Rey, are you in danger?” He asked slowly, evenly, letting her have a chance to regain her bearings.

“Not from anything but myself,” she muttered, sounding so bereft of hope. “I shouldn’t have called. I-I wasn’t lucid.”

“No. No, I’m glad you did,” he said, just as he looked down at himself. Poe was clad only in a sleeping shirt with a stretched collar, his underwear, and his boots.

He was still glad.

“Can I-” she paused, perhaps to steel herself, “can I tell you something?”

“Please,” he encouraged, still standing dumbly in the corridor.

“I lied to you. It isn’t my leg keeping me up at night.”

“I see.” The pieces fell into place for Poe.

“I know General Organa said the connection is irreparable, that it was severed when _he_ made his choice but,” she sighed, resigned, “I just get confused. A nightmare can feel so convincing...”

Poe wouldn’t tell her he would save her; shield her from the jagged, ugly things that pursued her. Rey was not in need of his protection, nor would she ever be. What she needed was a reprieve from constantly being the rock, the guiding light for the Resistance. What she needed was a good listener.

“It’s okay. Tell me,” he said, dulling every possible edge in his voice as he made the trek back to his quarters. He took her silence as acquiescence and waited.

“Firstly, I know it isn’t real.”

Rey’s voice quietly crackled through his communicator. He could imagine her, looking far away, her brow troubled. Dark eyes out of focus. Perhaps there would be that bleak, duned and dusted landscape reflecting back in them if he could see her face.

“But in the moment it feels like- It feels real. Real and _surreal_. I can’t explain it.”

“I’m listening,” he said, hoping to steady her. Poe could hear her take a breath.

“It started when I broke my leg. Only happens once or twice a week, and then only when I try to close my eyes.”

Poe grimaced, screwing his eyes shut, feeling shame well up in him for not knowing all this time how she suffered.

“At night, in the dark, I’ll see him in the shadows in the corners of my room. He hates me. He hates _us_. He wants to erase us from the galaxy and I can feel his rage in me and it _burns_.”

He swallowed thickly. Poe refused to believe that Rey’s presence among them was a danger, but the possessed manner in which she spoke was enough to make his pulse pound.

“It’s the same as any dream.” She said it as if she were in one. All wonder with a hint of trepidation. “Everything is completely upside-down, but I don’t realize how mad it is until _after_ I’ve already called someone up and made a complete fool of myself.”

Poe didn’t fully understand but he desperately wanted to reach out. True to his reckless nature he spoke without thinking.

“This is real,” he said. Another long silence. The more it went on the stranger the words sounded, hanging in the air. He cleared his throat.

“If you’re a pilot, when things are upside-down, you only have to find a horizon to set you right. Unless you’re in deep space but- but for the purposes of this metaphor we’ll say it’s _not_ deep space-”

He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, defeated by his own ill-begun attempt at consolation.

“What I’m trying to say is: I will always answer if you call, and we can sort out what's real and what isn’t,” he said, setting his jaw and making it a promise. “Together.”

Rey sheepishly agreed, promising he’d regret saying that. As far as Poe was concerned, this wouldn’t be an issue. She could have as much of his time as she wanted.

He stayed with her until the sun rose on Evit and cast Dendri into shadow. Rey had been careful never to reveal very much of her heart to Poe. That evening was the closest she had let him come. He only hoped that, if she needed to, she could allow herself to rely on the people that cared for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shout out the the good people who always pick up the phone and drop everything to set you right if you're having a rough go of things
> 
> (also lol anyone groan when the fic title came up? i love a good title drop)
> 
> next (and probably final!) update might take awhile, i have some commissions (drawrings) that are going to take up a lot of my time until potentially past the 4th so buckle up


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the obnoxiously long wait.
> 
> forgive me!

“So,” Rey began.

“So,” Poe concurred.

“Tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

They were, neither of them, blind to the reality that Poe and his daring squadron may never return from their journey to the Outer Rim where they hoped to ambush the First Order. That was palpable in the long silences between them this night. Of course, Poe had risked his life more that once, but this felt different. Unfair somehow. He had only just begun to know her. 

There was one unspoken thing upon which they both agreed. Whatever they had, whatever these late nights were between them - the stories, the secrets - none of it was more important than the struggle of the Resistance.

So they would, neither of them, mention it.

“Your squadron ready?”

“A little too ready, some of them,” Poe said, a tinge of disapproval in his voice. “They’re already arguing over who’ll down the most TIE fighters. Placing wagers too. Even after all that emphasis I tried to put on this being a team effort.”

Rey’s laughter burst forth, the sound free and unburdened by insecurity. The occasional snorts were almost too endearing for Poe to bear.

“What?” He asked, unable to stop himself from smiling along with her.

“That was just such a  _ responsible _ statement coming from you. I hate to say it, but I think being Commander has tempered you.”

“Terrible, isn’t it? I have finally become the type of old killjoy  _ I _ used to love ignoring when I was their age.”

“How is it to get a taste of your own medicine?”

“Not all bad. At least I can enjoy the fact that I’m always right- very smugly, for that matter,” he said with no shortage of sarcasm. “Oldness and wiseness and all that.”

“You’ve certainly earned it,” she said with a snicker.

He licked his lips and tried to think of something to say but it was difficult to be clever and conversational when one was also trying to stave off that harrowing  _ old _ feeling. That wasn’t how she saw him was it? All  _ oldness and wiseness? _ Maybe he should have used a different phrase.

It’s not like this was the first time he had pondered over their age difference. It started with Poe chiding himself for his wandering eyes which so often settled upon her from across the mess hall. But it wasn’t her youthfulness which drew him in. He knew that right away. Rey exuded joy, and stubborn patience, and sublime curiosity.

And hope. Above all, she was hope. 

He would find himself, head in his hand, expression utterly lost, just trying to get to the bottom of her. How had the barren desert, which had made itself so hostile to anything that dared to live and breath, nurtured something so unabashedly hopeful?

“Strangest thing,” came her wandering words. Poe jumped, almost having become lost in the past.

“I haven’t seen you in weeks, and I don’t even miss you,” Rey finished incredulously. Poe snorted, caught completely by surprise by the frank declaration.

“Real sweet of you, Sunshine, I haven’t missed you either.”

“Oh! Sorry- stars, that is  _ not _ what I meant. I mean because we talk-”

“I don’t even think I remember what you look like.”

“Oh, stop it,” she said, “I don’t believe you.”

“Seriously,” he insisted. “And what was your name again? Was it Roy?” 

“Hilarious.”

“Thank you.”

“I remember what you look like.” She hummed inquisitively. “I think that makes me the better friend of the both of us.”

“Is that so?” He said, his tone just daring her. “What color are my eyes, then?”

“Brown, obviously,” she replied. “Mine?”

“Can I get a hint?”

“Poe!”

“Just givin’ you a hard time,” he said, shaking his head. Then, looking down at his hands, he was struck by the sudden desire to be bold.

“I don’t know why I said I forgot what you look like. I didn’t forget”

“I know.”

“I mean,  _ of course _ , I know what you look like,” he said, heart racing, fighting to keep his nerves from reaching his voice. “You have hazel eyes. Brown hair. I couldn’t forget.”

She didn’t reply, which was actually a good thing. Poe needed the momentum.

“And you’re,” he shook his head and blew out a puff of air, as if astonished, “I mean, Rey, you’re a knockout.”

“A knockout?” Rey said, as if she found the word to be quite ridiculous. “What in the galaxy does that mean?”

Poe frowned. Must she always be unwittingly chipping away at his artifice of  _ the dashing and devil-may-care rebel pilot _ ? He would have to continue without the safety net of ‘only teasing’. A daunting task. He took a breath to begin. Oddly, it was easier than he thought it would be.

“You’re beautiful.” It was quiet yet earnest and not without a hint of his trademark playfulness.

“Beautiful?” She said, at last. Incredulous. Voice quiet enough to be mistaken for a whisper.

“Yes,” he said, making his feelings unequivocal. Was the sigh he heard one of offense? Indignance? Didn’t matter. The truth tumbled out of his mouth like the last dregs of coin from a Sabacc players purse, so he might as well go all in. 

“More so than anything I have seen in the entire galaxy.” 

Immediately, he regretted how much it sounded like he meant it. And it wasn’t that he  _ didn’t _ mean it. Not at all. Poe just wasn’t used to revealing so much of his heart.

“Please,” she said. He could practically see the way those hazel eyes of hers might roll to accompany her wry tone. “You’re having a laugh.”

“Maybe,” he said. 

“The  _ entire galaxy _ ,” she said, putting on her best impression of him.

“Sheesh, gimme a break.” 

“A sunset is beautiful,” she said, sounding slightly miffed.

“Well, I’m not-”

“A nebula is beautiful.”

“Yeah, but-”

“The Millenium Falcon is beautiful.” She sighed, sounding exhausted. “I'm not like those things. I’m  _ Rey.  _ Just Rey.”

“Alright,” he said, not feeling discouraged in the least. Poe had patience enough. Rey would believe him one day. 

“Well, Just Rey, why don’t you tell me about those plans of yours- the modifications you wanted for the Falcon?”

The awkward exchange was forgotten in an instant, as Rey happily detailed her grand plans. It was just what he needed, to hear her chatter away about the things that made her happy. Comfort and calm were fleeting the day before a mission and somehow the sound of her voice set his mind at ease.

* * *

The vast millions of stars stretched and pulled until they halted all around him. Exiting hyperdrive hadn’t made him feel queasy since he was a boy and yet he felt something stirring in the pit of his stomach.

“All wings report in.” 

A massive rebel flagship - the Fortune - hovered behind them, gargantuan and armed to the teeth. They flew behind the cover of a looming purple gas giant. When they rounded it, there would be the enemy freighter they intended to plunder. 

His squadron rattled off their assigned numbers and he squeezed his flightstick tight. BB-8 asked after his well-being.

“Jitters, pal. Just jitters. Let’s do our best, okay? Bring these kids home safe.”

A determined affirmative was the reply.

“Alright, you know the drill,” he could feel his squadron snapping to attention at the sound of his voice. “General Organa needs a new pair of slippers so let’s do this nice and clean. Lock S-foils in attack position. Target their comms first, we don’t need anymore company.”

There were only a few maddening minutes more before the freighter would catch sight of them, the 

“Kestrel One, Rey here. How’s my signal?   


He chuckled. 

“Hey, Hotshot.” Now she was started on the nicknames. He didn’t entirely mind.

“Well, well.” The edges of his mouth curled upward. “Here to wish me good luck?”

“I- well, after yesterday I...” She trailed off. Rare was the moment she wasn’t sure of what she was saying.  With resolve she finished. 

“Varnok offered me a last minute ride to Dendri.”

“No kidding. Guess I’ll finally see your face after all this time when I come back.”

“So that’s a promise?”

“That I’ll see you?” The way he said it sounded cloyingly hopeful. It made him cringe.

“That you’ll come back.”

Poe paused. Rey was worried...about him? What a peculiar feeling. Exhilarating and terrifying.

“‘Course, Rey. Always.”

“Good. Good.” She had to say it twice. The first time sounded too unsteady for her ears, he suspected. “Make the rebellion proud.”

With that, she closed the communications feed.

The Rebellion. Right. He didn’t have other, completely selfish reasons to not get killed in a dogfight on this particular day.

Around the edge of the swirling surface of the gas giant, they could see the trundling First Order shipping freighter, stark grey against black space. He pressed the throttle as far as it would go and his squadron followed.

A swarm of scrambled TIE fighters spilled out of the small accompanying carriers that flanked the freighter. Every worry he had was forced to the back of his mind as the Commander took over.

* * *

“Fortune, Kestrel One- am I coming through clearly? Fortune do you read?” Red warning lights flashed in his cockpit and the smell of important things  _ burning _ overwhelmed the cockpit. A damned First Order TIE had clipped his fighter and he was beginning to think it wasn’t merely a flesh wound. He smacked his console thrice.

“Damn! Comms are fried. Targeting computer too. Can’t even get a read on friendlies.”

BB-8 improvised in a panicked tone.

“What- no! What do you mean? I can’t do  _ anything _ until the computer is back up. Forget comms, I’m flying blind out here. Buddy, I need you to relax. What kind of magic can you work for me?”

BB-8 thought about it, his exposed head turning left and right as he desperately worked for a solution. Suddenly, an epiphany.

_ Beep. Bwoop-oop. _

Poe nodded along.

“Okay, yes good. You can get it back online? And fast! Yes! This is why I love you. Right here.”

_ Beewoop beep. _

“But…? But what?”

_ Boop booweeeooop.  _

“But you have to take-” Poe froze, gripping onto his flight stick for dear life 

“What do you mean you have to take Life Support Systems offline? Do  _ not _ take Life Support Systems offline.”

“Life Support Systems: Offline,” Kestrel One notified him, in her austere monotone. 

“Thanks for the warning,” he said ruefully before sucking in a breath and holding it. Since his fighter was no longer producing oxygen for him, he figured it might be a prudent move. The droid’s ministrations sent a flurry of sparks flying this way and that. BB-8 gave a quick apology and assured him it was only for a tick.

Or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> c:


	7. Chapter 7

Once his feet were back on solid ground, Poe crowed and pumped his fists. Nothing like a brush with death to really energize a guy. As soon as BB-8 was brought to the hangar floor from the X-Wing, Poe swept him up in a twirling best friend hug for the ages.

“You brilliant, beautiful, _round_ son of a bantha. I can’t believe you did it.”

BB-8 shrieked in delight and basked in the praise. After Poe set him down gently, he did a few victory circles.

“I’d be toast if it weren’t for you,” the Commander said, kneeling down to give his pal well earned pats on his head.

He glanced around the hanger of the Fortune. Poe had the closest call. The rest of his squadron were safe, hooting and chest-bumping, riding a wave of adrenaline and happiness. He gave a toothy grin to no one in particular and shook his head.

They pulled it off. He couldn’t believe it, but they pulled it off. The supplies they had made off with.  The assets! Engineering was already having a field day.

As he surveyed the hangar, he spotted a familiar face - a scowling one galvanizing any idle mechanic into action.

He trotted up, helmet tucked up his arm, hair handsomely floppy even after the scuffle.

“Hey, Varnok,” Poe said cheerfully, smacking the top of the tool box she was digging into, “came down for the big show?” Varnok’s furry lip curled. Her long ears twitched.

“Show? What show? Engineers take days now to repair this, what you have done to your fighter. Costs go through the roof, I tell you.”

“Yikes,” Poe pulled a face to match the phrase. “Sorry Varny, I didn’t mean to be nearly murdered by the First Order, but it’s good to know you care.”

The small Bothan whirled around, raising a threatening blowtorch in his direction.

“Who is this, _Varny_ ?” She asked, the ‘r’ rolling especially hard. “Has _she_ killed men in seven different star systems? Hm? Hm?!”

“Sheesh, I hope not,” he replied quickly, throwing hands up in defense. “Have you- I mean, has she?”

“For Varnok to know, and you - moondust-huffing starjockey - to find out.” Her torch popped and a piercing blue flame burned pointedly in his direction. She dropped her welding mask over her snout and turned away, satisfied that she had struck enough fear into the starpilot’s heart.

Before he could leave for debriefing, she abruptly pivoted to face him again. She tossed her head and the mask popped up.

“I nearly forget,” she said, waving a still lit torch, which Poe had to carefully dodge. “The girl.”

“Who?”

“The mousey one,” she specified, making circles around her head with her free hand. “Always, she is leaving _crumbs_ on my machinery!”

“Crumbs,” he repeated, rubbing his stubbly chin. “You mean Rey? What about her?”

“A mess after we lost your feed. And after your life support went offline.” Varnok rolled her big glossy eyes and waved a hand in front of her snout. “Her face-blood. All gone. Poof.”

“How...” He furrowed his brow and shook his head. Rey was on Dendri. That’s what she had said, at least.

“Stowaway troublemaker. How else? Is your brain made of pudding?”

“She’s on the Fortune? Right now?”

“Comms. Better hurry and bring your apologies.”

Poe felt another keen rush of adrenaline. He didn’t think his body had any left after today, but there it was. His heart was in his throat and beating like a hummingbird’s wings. With fire beneath his feet, he jetted off to see her, almost forgetting to thank his furry friend.

“Thanks Varny- I mean Varnok- No, I mean _ma’am_. Thank you, ma’am.” In turning to thank her, he nearly tripped over his boots and ate dirt.

The huffy Bothan just enjoyed his stumble with a mean little snort and turned back to her task.

He sprinted his way down the gleaming white corridors of the rebel capital ship, huffing, puffing and positively pouring sweat. His flightsuit was stifling and the running was not helping. When he did finally arrive at the lift, he came in _hot_.

 _Eek, eek ,eek_ went his boots as Poe skid across the polished floors, zeroing in on the closing doors of the lift he was about to miss. He windmilled his arms around, trying to gain his balance, but the doors were sealed shut before he could manage to wedge himself in.

He groaned, throwing his hands up. Of course, he missed the elevator. BB-8 sang in recognition as he rounded the corner, relieved to have caught finally up. When he witnessed his master’s obvious agitation, he asked what was the matter.

“It's the-” he then gesticulated towards the elevator, too occupied with catching his breath to bother with all the extra syllables. “Missed it.”

BB-8 warbled his condolences but quickly offered Poe the use of his blowtorch. Curious. Poe was certain there were far more useful tools for redirecting a lift. Part of him was very interested to know just what Beebs had in mind. He pressed his lips into a thin line and stared at his droid with a gaze most conflicted.

Finally, his voice of reason chimed in. _Do not melt the elevator, please. If only to avoid the citation._ He shook his head.

“No, no, buddy. We’ll wait.” Of course we’ll wait. We were not considering vandalism. We would _never_.

Poe tapped his foot eagerly, staring at the elevator so intently that lasers might shoot out of his eyes. The stupid doors weren’t opening and he was actually starting to consider just _what he was actually doing._

What was his plan? To show up in comms having completely skipped debriefing just assuming Rey’s reaction would be anything other than sheer confusion? He had barely said a word to his squadron before darting off.

 _Ding._ _Ssshh._ The door opened. She didn’t see him at first, she was chewing her lip and watching her shoes. But, boy, when she did finally turn those doe eyes on him...

“Poe!”

Rey.

She shone up at him, her eyes crinkling at the corners, immutably sparkling in a way which seemed to steal something of his very being. Little by little, Poe could feel it slowly trickling away for every moment he couldn’t take his eyes off of her smiling face.

“Sunshine,” he breathed.

Rey took in his ragged form. He was unbelievably sweaty and probably smelled like grease, but there was nothing for it now. A small amused smile played at her lips. He supposed she didn’t mind. Soon they realized they were both standing there just...grinning at one another. Rey made the first move.

“You’re-”

“I’m here.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” his brow furrowed, “your cast!” Rey looked down, seemingly as surprised as he was.

“Doc, gave me the all clear.”

“That’s...that’s really great.”

He was so overwhelmed by actually _seeing_ her that he had nearly forgotten why he came in the first place.

“So,” he broke the second odd silence, “I just wanted to tell you that I am...not dead.”

It sounded better in his head.

“I know,” she said, nodding, her smile hardly dissipating. “I saw you dock so I...” She shrugged, looking sheepish.

“Right.”

“Right. And I’m obviously really glad.” BB-8’s gaze swiveled between the two as their awkward exchange continued. “You know, that you aren't. Dead.”

“Also,” she squeezed her upper arm with one hand so hard the skin pinkened around it. Her shorn nails were digging in too. Rey wouldn’t meet his eyes with hers. “About what you said last night…”

Tired of always trying to find the right thing to say, Poe bit down on the tip of his middle finger to pull the glove off. With a cant of his head, he whipped the glove down the hallway and used his newly bare hand to catch her downturned chin. Before she could overthink it, he closed the gap between them and placed a careful kiss on the corner of her mouth.

BB-8 reeled back and whirled around, scandalized.

Poe didn’t linger for long, he was very curious to gauge her reaction. It was entirely possible he had a slap incoming. However, before he could bring himself to search her face, she was at him, her arms haphazardly thrown around his neck, her body pressed against his. They breathed each other in as Rey gifted him with a dazzling repayment right on his lips. He squeezed her tight and she did the same.

“I stand by it,” he sighed when they parted. “Beautiful. More than anything.”

The way she looked at him after that, Poe suspected she might just believe him now.

“We’re definitely going the have a talk,” she said, gesturing between them with one finger, “about this.”

Poe looked up, as if to ponder what she said. He hummed. “I think I’m done talking.”

Rey’s eyes glinted as she looked up at him. With a fox’s smile, she pulled him into the elevator.

“At least for now,” Poe said as he pressed over the button he hoped would close the doors with one hand, and held Rey tight with the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The white and orange droid sat, apparently abandoned, in the hallway. Though his decision to remain alone was entirely his choice. He was a brilliant, beautiful, wingman too and as an actual sphere, BB-8 knew the pitfalls of becoming a third wheel. 
> 
> \--
> 
> and as the credits roll to this fic listen to "Flower Power" by Greta Van Fleet because it's the perfect most beautiful tune to end this lil firecracker with.
> 
> thanks for readin love you guys


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